


Won't do no good to hold no seance

by R_S_B



Series: What's gone is gone, and you can't bring it back around [2]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: F/F, F/M, but no new deaths, deals a lot with character death, exactly what you would expect based on season one of Discovery, just what's in season one, very brief mention of cannibalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 23:12:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15326493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_S_B/pseuds/R_S_B
Summary: Katrina bears the weight of her decisions and the memories of her friends alone.





	Won't do no good to hold no seance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tin-can-spaceship](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=tin-can-spaceship).



> Title is from the Fiona Apple song, Carrion.
> 
> Written for @tin-can-spaceship, for @sapphicstartrek's summer fanwork exchange.
> 
> Takes places during and following the episodes The War Without, The War Within and Will You Take My Hand?

_Won't do no good to hold no seance_ __  
_What's gone is gone, and you can't bring it back around_ __  
_Won't do no good to hold no searchlight_  
_You can't illuminate what time has anchored down_

* * *

“We need to talk.” Her tone left no room for discussion, but it didn’t seem to work on Afsaneh. Her old friend brushed past her, holographic form turning away to move behind the faint, translucent outline of a desk.

“I have work to do, Katrina, you know that.” Her hands tugged anxiously at the sleeves of her uniform as she sat down, frowning when Katrina didn’t move. Katrina knew the last attack had been devastating. Afsaneh’s station, what was left of it, had had to evacuate and retreat to Starbase 4. Among the many casualties, she'd lost her first officer, and it didn’t take a psychologist to see how it weighed on her. _At least they’d been able to evacuate. Starbase 1 hadn’t been so lucky…_ “Unless you are going to help me get through these status reports and service requests, I don’t have time.”  Afsaneh was reaching to shut down the transmission when Katrina spoke again.

“It’s about Pippa.”

Afsaneh’s head flew up, eyes burning into Katrina. Her voice was cold when she responded. “Philippa has been dead for more than a year. Whatever it is, it can wait.”

“This can’t.”

Afsaneh’s hands slammed down against the desk, and Katrina jumped a little, startled across the light years that separated them. Katrina swallowed uncomfortably, slim fingers brushing her hair behind her ear.

“I’m sorry, Afsaneh. It’s urgent.”

Afsaneh’s shoulder slumped and she sighed wearily. It made Katrina’s heart ache to watch. “What could _possibly_ be so pressing about my dead wife?”

She bristled at the bitterness in Afsaneh’s voice. “It’s complicated.”

Afsaneh rolled her eyes, but she didn’t say anything. “Well, what is it? I only have a few minutes.”

Katrina took a breath. “I am speaking to you in the strictest confidence right now. I’m not even supposed to be doing this. But I can’t… you need to know the truth.” She swallowed and looked over her shoulder nervously, but no one was there. “You… are going to hear things. So you need to know-- that it’s not _her_.”

Afsaneh froze. “What does that mean, Kat?”

“I’ll explain everything I can. The _Discovery_ has finally returned to us, from an alternate universe both very similar and very different from our own. The two _Discoverys_ , the one from their universe and the one from ours, seem to have switched places nine months ago. The wreckage we found was from the other _Discovery,_  and ours has been trying to get back ever since. It finally returned to us yesterday.” Afsaneh’s mouth had fallen open, and Katrina took the opportunity to plunge forward without interruption. She took a deep breath and continued. “This alternate universe is populated by the same people and places as ours, but it's a very different world. There is no Starfleet, no Federation. The quadrant is ruled by the Terran Empire, a fiercely xenophobic, fascist regime. Humans have subjugated, enslaved, or wiped out the rest of the species across the quadrant. It’s a dark place. Even the humans live lives of fear, violence, and deceit, constantly afraid of the knife that will be plunged into their backs. The _Discovery_ posed as their Terran counterparts until they were able to find a way to return.”

Katrina paused and Afsaneh’s mouth worked. “That’s… “

 _Impossible_?

_Ridiculous?_

_No more absurd than anything else she’s heard today?_

Then Afsaneh’s eyes fluttered suddenly as something clicked in her brain and she looked up at Katrina. “Gabe?”

Katrina’s jaw tightened, and she fought the heat of rage swelling in her chest. “Captain Lorca did not return with the _Discovery_.”

Afsaneh sighed sadly. “I’m sorry, Katrina.”

Katrina’s cheek twitched and for a moment she couldn’t continue. “The _Discovery_ didn’t end up in this alternate universe by accident.” She paused, unsure how to continue. “This… wasn’t the first time someone switched places with their counterpart in the alternate universe. When Gabe was captain of the _Buran_ , he swapped places with _their_ Lorca, the right hand of the Terran Emperor.  His counterpart killed the crew of the _Buran_ to better hide his secret, and everything he did from then on was calculated to get him back to his world.” The memory of his hands on her body - on her throat - sent a cold shiver through her. “When the _Discovery_ obtained the data necessary to break the Klingon cloak, he’d also gotten the data he needed to send them back to the alternate universe. Once back, he attempted a coup on the Emperor and was killed in the attempt.” How desperately she wished that she could have been there when the Emperor plunged a sword through his chest.

“Are you sure, this is--”

“We’re sure,” Katrina interrupted. “I’m on the _Discovery_ now. Ambassador Sarek has confirmed it.”

“Then… what about… y- _our_ Gabe?“

“Dead,” Katrina said flatly. “He… must be. He has to be.” The alternative was too painful to contemplate. Katrina looked down for a moment, composing herself. “I’m telling you all this because the _Discovery’s_ return has given us an opportunity to strike against the Klingons. We have already begun preparations, and will be enroute to Qonos soon. But the existence of this other universe is being kept secret. It would be too dangerous for this knowledge to get out. Unfortunately… there was a complication.”

“A complication?”

“When the _Discovery_ returned, they brought someone with them. It’s _not her_ , Afsaneh.”

Katrina waited for the realization to hit her, and when it did, it was like a physical blow. Afsaneh’s entire body shuddered, hand flying to her chest. She looked like she was struggling to find her breath. “Philippa?” she finally whispered.

“It’s not her, Afsaneh,” Katrina insisted, shaking her head. “It looks like her. It has her name. But it’s not her.”

Afsaneh trembled, then sobs burst from her, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You’ve _seen_ her?” Her voice broke and Katrina’s heart ached for her friend, forced to process the unimaginable.

“I have. I know how hard and how bizarre this is. But in order to avoid disclosing the existence of the alternate universe, we have to hide her origins. So you might hear that she - that our Philippa - has been found and rescued. But it’s not her. And I couldn’t put you through that.”

At first, she couldn’t tell if Afsaneh had heard her, but when the sobbing subsided, she nodded. “Thank you.” Her cheeks were still wet and she rubbed them with the back of her hand. “I do appreciate it. I… I think I need some time to be alone now.” Katrina could tell she was barely holding it together. She wanted to recommend professional support, but there wasn’t time for that.

Katrina nodded sympathetically. “I’ll be in contact tomorrow when this is all over.” Her voice turned cold. “This war will be over very soon.”

When Afsaneh’s image was gone, Katrina rolled her neck, hand rubbing muscles tight with tension as she stretched them one by one. A small part of her felt guilty for keeping the full truth from Afsaneh - that in the other universe Phillipa had been the Emperor of that evil, fascist empire and that they were now working with her to defeat the Klingons. But it was fleeting. She was used to keeping her own counsel when it came to her job, though it usually felt a little less personal.

But she had other concerns right now. It didn't matter what it took. No one was ever again going to be hurt like Philippa had been hurt. Because this war was going to end.

And she was going to end it.

* * *

The end was anticlimactic.

The weight on her shoulders was lifted so suddenly and unexpectedly she’d actually cried. It was the first time in many long, weary months of constant devastation and her body was desperate for release. She'd let the wave of emotion wash over her, hot wet tears spilling from her eyes, sobs wrenched from her throat till she thought she'd lose her voice.

When it was over she just felt empty.

After everything was said and done, Katrina had to admit that it had all turned out for the best. But now it was time to return to the dreary work of picking up the pieces to rebuild, of moving on without those who had been lost. Her emotions were a confused jumble, alternating relief and joy with a deep and profound grief.

On the day they awarded the crew of the _Discovery_ with medals for their heroic and ultimately crucial efforts to stop the war, the emotions were swinging faster than usual. But Katrina knew how important those ceremonies were for everyone to start to move forward again.

She was surprised when the chime on her office door rang, having assumed that everyone had left after the awards ceremony. She was more surprised when Michael Burnham walked in.

Katrina felt a flash of guilt for her involvement in the plan that would have obliterated the Klingon homeworld, but for the woman now standing in front of her.

It was brief.

“Lieutenant Burnham.”

Michael stared at her feet for a moment and smiled nervously, the corner of her mouth turning up. “I’ll still not quite used to hearing that again.”

“You earned it,” Katrina reassured her. When Michael didn’t say anything else, Katrina continued. “What brings you here, Lieutenant?”

“I wanted to ask you about why you did what you did.”

Katrina choked back a laugh of surprise. “Some people would say that that’s an awfully inappropriate question to ask a superior officer.” _A little impertinent, this one. Like Gabe. Or Pippa._ Michael looked down again, properly abashed, but Katrina continued. “But I think you’ve earned it.”

“Sir?”

“Do you want me to change my mind?”

Michael shook her head quickly. “No, sir.” Katrina gestured for her to take a seat and she took it. “I’ve been struggling recently. With what makes our universe different from theirs. Or if it’s different at all.”

“And what have you decided?”

“I don’t know yet. I want to believe that we are different. That we could never be like them. But I’m not sure that’s true.”

_And I’m evidence of that. But aren’t we all?_

Katrina sat quietly, waiting for Michael to continue.

“I’ve just been reflecting a lot on why we make the choices we make. How much is circumstance. How much is values. How much is some innate… something.”

“You want to know why I was willing to commit genocide?”

In her mind, she saw Pippa smiling at her.

In her mind, she saw Pippa’s dismembered body being stripped of its flesh.

And Katrina heard L’Rell’s words in her head. _Conquer us or we will never relent_. Katrina knew exactly what she’d been doing when she’d supported Sarek’s plan.

In front of her, Michael winced at her word choice but nodded.

Katrina leaned back thoughtfully. “The _Discovery_ has been through so much recently. In some ways, I can't even imagine the horror of your experiences. But here, we've been fighting this war, _losing_ , for nearly a year. Starfleet is ravaged. The civilian casualties are incalculable. Almost all my friends and colleagues are dead now. We were fighting for our very survival.” She tilted her head and looked at Michael. “That's what you were doing when you mutinied Philippa, isn't it? Trying to save lives?”

“It was the wrong decision,” Michael insisted gruffly. Then softer, “Philippa might still be alive if I had followed her orders.”

“Perhaps,” Katrina admitted. “Or perhaps not. T’Kuvma was determined to start a war that day. Nothing you could have done would have changed that. Losses were inevitable.”

Michael was quiet for a long time. “So, what? We’re all the same? Willing to commit atrocities to save lives?”

Katrina shrugged. “Yes and no. In some ways what Command decided was incalculably worse than the mistake you made. But the stakes were so much higher. Our options bleaker.” She sighed wearily. “We were desperate. And we were tired of fighting. She gave us what we wanted and we took it.”

“The Emperor.”

Katrina gave a small smile. “Yes. _The Emperor_.”

“Do you think there’s good in her?” Michael mused.

Katrina looked at Michael sharply. “She’s _not_ Philippa.”

“I know. But… it’s so hard not to see her.”

“In a megalomaniacal, fascist dictator?”

Michael laughed out loud, shaking her head slightly. “Sometimes? Don’t ask me to explain it.” She paused and looked up at Katrina. “So.. you knew her?”

Katrina bit her lip and looked down. “Yes,” she murmured softly. “I knew her.” Katrina could see the questions in Michael’s eyes, and she allowed herself an uncharacteristic moment of nostalgia. “Pippa was one of my oldest friends, since the Academy. Later, we served together on the _Nova_. She… we were in a relationship for several years, then. She’s… a very special person. And she was a very dear friend.”

“What happened?”

Katrina raised her eyebrows. “To our relationship?”

Michael nodded. 

Katrina shook her head and shrugged. “The usual. Neither of us was ready to give up our careers for the relationship. We didn’t want to do it long-distance. I got a job at Command and we decided it was best to move on.”

Michael was quiet for a while. “I wonder sometimes what she would think of me now. If she were still here.”

Katrina looked at her skeptically. “Do you have to wonder?” Michael’s chin dropped to her chest, and she looked like she didn’t know how to answer. Katrina stopped her before she could try with a wave of her hand. “That was mostly rhetorical, Lieutenant.” She held the eyes of the younger woman sitting across from her. “Lieu-- _Michael_. I can assure you that Pippa would be astonishing proud of you right now. I… I did what I did, and made the decisions I did, to ensure that no one else would have to suffer her fate.” Katrina paused, momentarily overcome by a wave of nausea and horror and rage at the thought of what the Klingons had done to Philippa’s flesh - another detail she’d spared Afsaneh. She blinked and forced herself to continue. “But _you_ sacrificed everything to uphold the values that she lived, that she died for. You made sure that after it was all over, that this Federation was still the Federation that she loved.”

When she finished Michael was fighting back tears. Michael looked up and blinked, one finger delicately running under each eye.

“Have you spoken to Afsaneh?”

Michael blinked. “Co-commodore Paris?”

Katrina nodded.

Michael shook her head. “I-- I couldn’t. What if she blames me? She must hate me… “

“There’s no way to be certain what other people will do. But don’t you think it might be worth the risk? You and Afsaneh… you were Philippa’s family. You might find comfort and support and understanding there. There is more that connects you than separates you.”

Michael nodded thoughtfully, then she looked back at Katrina. “What about you?”

Katrina was taken aback for a moment. “Me? I’ll be fine.” _I have to be_.

* * *

_The bed shifted behind her and Katrina rolled over drowsily to investigate._

_“Hello,” a soft voice murmured._

_Katrina smiled, eyelids fluttering open. “Pippa!” She pushed up on her forearms. “I missed you.”_

_Philippa sat down on the edge of their bed and reached for Katrina, pushing a stand of hair behind her ear and traced along her jaw gently. “I missed you too. I wish you could have come on this mission with me. It was_ fascinating _.” Her eyes shone with delight and she could see just how much Philippa was bursting to tell her all about their diplomatic efforts._

 _“I’m sure. You’ll have to tell me all about it._ In the morning _.” Philippa laughed and the sound made her chest feel warm and full. “Come on. Get in bed with me.” She pulled back, leaving room for Philippa next to her._

_Her girlfriend smiled down at her. “I’ll be in soon. I just need to get undressed and take my hair down.”_

_Katrina sat up and took Philippa by the hand. “I can help you with that.”_

_Philippa smiled indulgently at her and sat back down. Katrina moved behind her and pulled the tie out of her hair. She began to run her fingers through Philippa’s long thick waves, slowly unraveling the braid. When she was done, Philippa shook her head, waves tumbling over her shoulders. She began to unfasten her jacket, and Katrina kissed the side of her neck._

_Philippa pulled back to turn and look at Katrina, eyeing her suspiciously as she pulled off the jacket. “I_ thought _you were sleepy.”_

 _Katrina chuckled and wrapped her arms around Philippa, pressing her face into Philippa’s neck. “I am. It’s just nice to have you back. I haven’t kissed you in_ days _.”_

_Philippa smiled, taking Katrina’s face in her hands and kissing her firmly. She didn’t pull back for a long time, and when she finally had to take a breath, she rested her forehead against Katrina’s, noses touching, close enough to share breath._

_“Finish getting undressed,” Katrina told her. “I’m ready to hold you.”_

_Philippa nodded and Katrina laid back down. Her eyes followed Philippa as she moved around the small room, removing her boots and socks, then her uniform pants, and finally her bra, tossing them all in the hamper in the corner. When she finally crawled into bed next to Katrina, wearing nothing but her panties and thin Starfleet tank top, Katrina was ready for her, wrapping herself around Philippa’s back, one hand reaching up under the bottom edge of the tank top to press against the soft flesh of Philippa’s abdomen. Muscles flexed under her fingers as Philippa settled in._

_She was barely conscious, cheek pressed against Philippa’s shoulder blade and drifting slowly into a contented sleep, when Philippa spoke. “It really was so fascinating, Katrina. You would have loved it.”_

_“Mmm.”_

_“The Krizopeans have a different conception of trust than humans do. They weren’t willing to initiate official diplomatic negotiations until we indicated our trust. They kept waiting for it, and we weren’t giving them what they expected, and things were about to fall apart when I finally figured out the disconnect.”_

_Pride swelled in her chest. “Starfleet is lucky to have you, Pippa.”_

_“A lot of people worked hard to make this happen,” Philippa deflected easily. “They should be signing the treaty tomorrow.”_

_Katrina frowned. “Tomorrow? Things aren’t finished yet? Then why did you return?”_

_“It’s your birthday tomorrow. And they didn’t need me anymore.”_

_Katrina flushed and pressed a kiss between Philippa’s shoulder blades. “_ I’m _lucky to have you.”_

_Philippa laughed lightly. “You are,” she agreed._

When Katrina first heard that Philippa had been killed, she knew that the universe was dimmer for having lost such a bright, shining, loving soul.

But now, she was less certain. Philippa lived on, in the people who knew her and loved her. She would never be completely gone, so long as her memory, and her values, lived on in those still here.

She had been there when Michael and the crew of the _Discovery_ had refused the orders that would have ended an entire civilization, her memory perhaps burned even more deeply into Michael _because_ of her prior betrayal. Katrina had betrayed those values too, when she’d agreed to the attack on Qonos. And now, Katrina would work all the harder to make sure that the Federation they rebuilt would reflect those values.

For Philippa.

Katrina was jolted out of her daydreaming by the urgent buzz of her comm. Answering it, her aide appeared. “Admiral,” he nodded at her. She nodded in return. “Admiral Terral is on the line. He is calling to discuss prioritization of the repair efforts.”

“Of course. Put him through.”

Katrina straightened and cleared her throat. _Time to get back to work._


End file.
